


Peaches

by goblynn



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-01-06 22:52:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1112464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goblynn/pseuds/goblynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sarah runs into someone in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peaches

The salty air whipped her hair back over her shoulders, and Sarah clutched at her scarf, looking across the street. The sky was gray, the sun almost set behind her, and she smiled wryly at the glowing sign. Checking for oncoming traffic, she crossed against the light and ducked inside the restaurant.

 

It was a small place, a hole in the wall if there ever was one, but it had history, and she’d found places with deep roots made her feel more grounded. She’d been running for years; she never settled in, or _fit_ , anywhere. Feeling out of place was normal, back in college, but after a while, she realized it happened everywhere, all the time.

 

So she’d kept going.

 

Fortune followed her, too—she never lacked for money, or transportation, or food—opportunities fell into her lap, and she never questioned it. (She had her suspicions, of course, but it wasn’t as if she could confirm anything.) She took what was offered, and made the best of it. Her life was an adventure of a different kind.

 

For now, though, she was going to have a hot dog.

 

~*~*~*~

 

“Peaches Corner. How appropriate.”

 

She froze momentarily, then wiped away the chili sliding down her chin. Very deliberately, she took a long draw of her soda before spinning the stool to face him. If she was surprised at his appearance, she didn’t let it show, but allowed herself a thorough look-over before meeting his eyes.

 

“Hello, Sarah.”

 

“You’ve changed.”

 

His lip curled in a small smile. “I could say the same for you.”

 

She shrugged. “I grew up.”

 

His smile widened.

 

She motioned at the stool beside hers before spinning back around. “Have a seat. I’ve waited this long, you can wait for me to finish eating.”

 

He slid onto the stool with practiced ease, silently perusing the photographs under the layer of acrylic coating the bar. Decades were documented under trays of fries and burgers, the changing waterfront against an unchanging sea. Black-and-white gave way to color, hemlines rose, and hairstyles changed, but some things stood against time.

 

She popped the last of her fries into her mouth and wiped her hands on a napkin. Glancing over at Jareth, at his short hair and long leather jacket, she felt her cheeks grow hot. She turned on the stool, looking outside.

 

“This place has been here since the Thirties. I guess it used to be open-air,” she gestured at the large glass doors that stretched most of the building’s front, “but they probably enclosed it when they got air-conditioning.”

 

Sarah could see him in the reflection on the doors. He’d turned as she spoke, her voice strained, and was watching her carefully.

 

She went on. “It’s funny how some things take so long to change, and if you’re there while it’s happening, you don’t really notice—but if you left, and came back after a while, what you’d find would be so different. Can you imagine what those people would think of this place now?”

 

His reflection-self tilted its head, straightening in the seat. His wariness was palpable.

 

She turned back to him.

 

“Hello, Jareth.”

 

He regarded her a long moment, taking in her smile and the blush on her cheeks. Whatever he sought, he found in her eyes, and he relaxed ever-so-slightly. She watched as he stood, burnished leather swirling around his legs, and he held out his hand. His eyes were intent on hers.

 

“Are you ready, then, Sarah?”

 

She nodded, slipping her hand into his.

 

~*~*~*~

 

The lights flickered back on, and the busboy looked around. The man and woman that were standing _right there_ a second ago were gone. He went to the counter and picked up the trash, sliding the money aside, and tried to ignore the heavy scent of peaches.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written on a whim, inspired by a silly intersection of reality and an idle mind.
> 
> Peaches Corner is a real place, a little restaurant that's stood on a corner in Myrtle Beach since 1937.


End file.
